Female to Female
by ProfessionalxDaydreamer
Summary: A series of short drabbles/fics, all in random order, centered around Maureen and Joanne's relationship. Rated T. Everything, really, from teenfics to grown-up ones! Review!
1. Princess Charming

A/n: Just a new fic idea I've had bouncing around in my head for awhile. This will be mostly drabbles, some fics…very random little oneshots. About?

**MoJo of course!**

**And yes, I got my title from the NYTW version of Rent. :D**

.x.

Maureen had always believed she would grow up, get married to a really 'nice,' charming man,

and have 2.5 kids.

They would all live in the suburbs together, happy and content, with lots of extra money.

This man who would one day be her husband would sweep her off of her feet, carry her off into the sunset, and

then she would truly know what it felt like to be in love.

...At least, that was what she'd always read in books and heard in fairy tales.

It was what her mother and older sister, Cara, went on and on about; dreamy looks on their faces.

Maureen held onto this notion, this expectation, until she turned 13 years old,

and laid eyes on someone who was not 'nice' and didn't give a damn about sweeping Maureen off of her feet.

Tracey Hollis smoked cigarettes behind the gym, wore a beat-up leather jacket,

and never seemed to follow rules.

Maureen's mother, she knew, would shit a brick if she found out

that every Thursday in-between English and Bio,

she made out with Tracey Hollis behind the gym;

her body awakening in ways she'd never thought possible.

And that was when she knew that the fairytale-sunset ending was not for her.

.x.


	2. Homecoming

**A/n: Well, here we go. Drabble number 2. Love it? Hate it? Review it?**

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15-year-old Joanne stared at her lavender dress, pulling at it angrily.

She didn't wear dresses; she never had. But tonight was different. Tonight, she would finally be normal.

Hopefully.

Brian, a guy in her Algebra class, had asked her to the Homecoming dance, which was tonight.

Joanne was almost positive that Brian liked her, and even though she wanted to like him, too,

she couldn't help but feel

nothing.

Her mother had been so excited. She clapped her hands together, glad that her little girl was finally going out

with a nice boy.

She took Joanne dress shopping.

She took Joanne to get her hair and nails done.

She took Joanne shopping for "proper shoes," insisting that she couldn't wear those "hideous combat boots"

to such an occasion. Now Joanne looked at herself in the mirror,

cringing at the unfamiliar globs of eye shadow on her lids, and the lip stain that made her look like a clown.

Waiting for her date to show up, Joanne felt anxious and annoyed; she just wanted this all to be over.

As she heard a knock on the door and the sound of her mother getting the camera ready, Joanne swallowed

guiltily, wishing with all of her heart that the person on her arm could be a girl.

And she hated herself for that.

.x.


	3. First Kiss

**A/n: Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, everyone! Life has blown up in my face, basically. Aaargghh. And I'm having writer's block with my other story, "In Laughter, In Strife," but you can expect an update from that one soon. Thanks for all your reviews!! ^^**

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"Have you ever been kissed?" Kate asked offhandedly.

Joanne looked at her best friend since 1st grade, furrowing her brows.

The two were at Joanne's house, it was past midnight, and both had consumed a bit too much Ben and Jerry's

ice cream. Joanne took in Kate's beautiful long brown hair, and green eyes. A fluttering feeling in her chest

took her by surprise.

"Jo?"

Joanne blinked, opening her mouth, though no sound came out. "Ehh...No," she finally got out, and Kate

scooted closer to Joanne curiously. Both were perched on Joanne's large bed. Kate put down the magazine

she was reading, focusing on Joanne. "Really? Jo, you're fourteen!"

Joanne sighed. "I know."

Kate was silent as she took in this new information.

"Have you?" Joanne asked quickly, eager to focus on something besides _her._

Kate scoffed. "Well, yeah. Billy Henshaw in seventh grade, Sean from Bio last year, and Tessa Jones."

Joanne's jaw dropped. "Tessa? How?"

Kate laughed. "What do you mean, how? We kissed. It wasn't bad. She was a dare, though."

"Oh." Joanne was suddenly interested in this conversation, leaning forward on her elbows.

"Yeah...kissing's pretty great," Kate said with a sigh, locking eyes with Joanne, who looked away quickly.

Twenty minutes later, the two girls were immersed in a game of Truth or Dare.

"Okay, Joanne, have you ever smoked a cigarette?" Kate asked, and Joanne nodded, glad to have done

_something_. "I snuck one in sixth grade, from my mom's purse. She didn't notice, but I thought it tasted gross."

Kate nodded in admiration, "your turn."

Joanne took a deep breath. She didn't know if it was the dim lighting, the tone of Kate's voice, or the way her

eyes shone in the candlelight, but Joanne felt a strong, unfamiliar urge.

She wanted Kate to kiss her. She wanted to experience what it felt like.

"I dare you...I dare you to kiss me," Joanne said uncharacteristically boldly, sticking out her chin slightly.

Kate's eyebrows rose, and the two sat in silence for a moment, until Kate started moving closer and closer to

Joanne, locking eyes with her, causing Joanne to blush. Her heart sped up, her hands became cold, and she

squeaked with surprise as Kate pushed her back onto the pillows. "Okay," she said breathily, before her lips

met Joanne's. Her whole body went numb, before it practically lit up with feeling.

She could feel the electricity flowing through her body, and was surprised when Kate's hands found their way

to her pajama top, sliding her cold hands underneath. Joanne gasped and closed her eyes with a sigh,

feeling like she was floating blissfully on a cloud. Finally, Kate pulled away with a grin, and Joanne smiled shakily.

She brought her hand up to Kate's face, stroking her cheek tenderly. This all felt so _right_ to Joanne.

Kate quickly shrank away from the contact,

and Joanne wrinkled her brow in confusion. Kate had just been kissing her a moment ago!

"Oh, don't act so weird, Jo, it was just for fun! An...experiment, of sorts." Kate laughed, and Joanne felt something

inside of her break.

To her, it certainly hadn't felt like an experiment.

.x.


	4. Way of Dealing

**A/n: Don't look at me like that! Post it if you've got it, right?**

**Oh and the double-spaced thing is sort of screwy…sorry about the format. Teen drabbles seem to be all I can write as of now, but we'll see (boys)…**

.x.

"Okay, now take your clothes off."

16-year-old Maureen smirked, removing her shirt and jeans, until she was in only a lacy black bra-and-

underwear set.

She posed from her place on her bed, smiling sultrily up at the girl who was stationed at the easel across the

room. "Aw, you wore that just for me, didn't you?" The girl said knowingly, and Maureen almost blushed.

"You know it, baby." With that, she unclipped her hair from it's messy bun, letting her curls fall wildly around her

shoulders. The girl, Camilla, started sketching furiously as Maureen laid on the bed, propping herself up on

an elbow, posing for the portrait. Her girlfriend of two months, Camilla, was an artist. She was really good,

and Maureen was convinced that she'd be famous someday.

Just like Maureen was going to be.

Camilla had been having trouble with "artistic inspiration" lately, so Maureen had volunteered to help her out

with that. "Beautiful, Mo. Just beautiful," Camilla said softly, scribbling away at her rough draft sketch.

After awhile, Camilla looked up. "Could you just...tilt your chin up a bit, and maybe lower your bra strap?"

Maureen laughed, complying. Ten minutes passed, and Maureen was getting impatient. Though she

understood the other girl's artistic urges, she couldn't help but be a little turned on by this situation.

"Milla?"

"Yeah."

"Come over here," Maureen said, beckoning to Camilla with her finger. Camilla rolled her eyes, used to

Maureen's antics, and put down her pencil, going over to Maureen, who was still perched on the bed.

"I guess I could take break," she sighed, running her fingers through Maureen's curls.

"Mmm...I should hope so." Maureen pulled her down on top of her, pressing her lips to the other girl's in a

passionate kiss. Maureen was going to go even further, until the door burst open.

"Maureen, I know-" her mother stopped midsentence, taking in her daughter, half-naked, and the girl who was

on top of her. She paled, and looked ready to faint.

"Mom! What the fuck?!" Maureen tried to cover herself up, and failed, for the most part.

Her mother finally recovered from the shock, and clenched her fists angrily. "Who is this?!"

She asked, obviously furious at having caught Maureen. In bed. With a _girl._

"It's- It's-" her mother held a hand up. "So you're a...a _dyke _now?" Her mother spat, and Maureen could see the

sadness and disapproval in her eyes. Before Maureen could respond, Nancy Johnson turned and went back

out into the hall, shutting the door behind her.

Camilla looked at her with questioning eyes, and Maureen managed a shrug, though she couldn't help

but wonder, inside, if life as she knew it was over.

Sighing, she pulled her clothes on, running her fingers through her hair. "You'd...you'd better go," she said

to Camilla in a detached tone. The girl gave her a concerned look, and then left without a word.

Maureen wiped at her smudged lipstick, cautiously emerging from her bedroom. She walked into the kitchen, where her mother was making lunch.

"Mom..." Maureen started, but Nancy interrupted her.

"Maureen, could you get the carrots from the fridge?" She asked, gazing intently at the cutting board.

And that was when Maureen realized that this would be her mother's way of dealing with things.

.x.


	5. Would You Light My Candle?

**A/n: This is an adult fic. Haha! Not in that sense, silly...**

.x.

Maureen knocked on the door of the apartment next to her, inwardly fuming.

Mark and Roger had banded together and said they wouldn't do it-

so she was stuck with the job of asking someone, _anyone, _for a light.

The power had gone out in their entire building, and Maureen needed light to write by, after all,

her protest was coming up in a couple of weeks.

The door finally swung open, and a woman about her age poked her head out. "Yeah?"

Maureen smiled, holding out her candle stub. "Hi! Would you light my-"

The woman rolled her eyes and pulled Maureen inside, shutting the door.

"Damn artists," she mumbled on her way to the kitchen, and Maureen put her hands on her hips.

"Excuse me?" She said, raising an eyebrow, and the woman shrugged, getting out the matches.

"Well, this happens nearly every time the power goes out. Some pretty little bohemian comes up here and

asks _me _for stuff, because you're too lazy, or whatever, to just go buy some matches!"

Maureen smirked, ignoring the last part. "Thanks. You're kinda pretty yourself."

The woman softened for a moment, and Maureen saw through her "Scrooge" act. Her eyes widened, and

she dropped the matches.

Maureen's smile widened, and the woman quickly shook her head, picking them up with a blush on her face.

"Here," the woman said, not looking at Maureen.

She handed her the entire box of matches, probably just eager to get Maureen out of there, but

Maureen wasn't going to leave. Not now.

"Thanks...Joanne Jefferson," Maureen said, squinting at the scattered notes on her coffee table,

which her name was printed on many times.

She took the matches, brushing her hand against the milk chocolate one, feeling a shock of electricity

from the contact.

Joanne met her eyes then, curious, but still cautious.

"What's your name?" She asked Maureen, and the diva knew she had won this girl over. Already.

"Maureen," she grinned, stepping very closely to Joanne, closer than what was probably considered

appropriate. She stepped so close to Joanne, that she could feel the woman's erratic breathing,

and surprisingly, her own.

Finally, Maureen grinned at her neighbor, turning around and slapping her on the ass.

"See you around," she laughed, and practically skipped out the door.

When Maureen got back to the loft, she waltzed into the cold room with a huge smile on her face,

lit candle in hand.

"Did you have fun?" Roger sarcastically smirked, lowering his beer from his spot on the sofa.

"Yup!" Maureen grinned, a gleam in her eye as she set the candle on the table.

She sat down with a pen and paper, intent on working on her protest, but only two words entered her mind:

_Joanne Jefferson..._

.x.

**....Reviews make me dance around and sing songs from "Avenue Q." (In alternating puppet voices) So review, you know you want to....**


	6. First Crush

**Crushes on teachers. YAY. Of course I had to make Joanne have one (the things I do to these characters...) They can really make for some great angst, huh? Except, this didn't come out angsty at all...hmm...**

.x.

She had long, chestnut brown hair, and warm, smiling honey eyes.

Joanne took all of this in as she snuck secret glances at Miss Stein, her new second grade teacher.

It was the first day of school, and her class had just been let out for recess; everybody

scurrying to the jungle gym and swing sets,

except Joanne,

who decided she'd rather sit on the bench with Miss Stein, and watch everything.

The young, beautiful teacher turned toward Joanne and smiled, noticing the little girl looking at her.

"Joanne, sweetheart, why aren't you playing with everyone else?"

Miss Stein asked, and Joanne noticed that her voice sounded like honey, too.

"Oh, I don't know, Miss," Joanne said quietly,

in almost a whisper. She looked down at her lap shyly.

Miss Stein smiled, and as she saw the beautiful, lovely, caring face light up, Joanne made a secret vow

to make her smile more often.

She didn't know why- but Miss Stein's smile made _her _smile.

"Well, that's okay, Joanne," Miss Stein said in her musical voice,

reaching out and placing her hand gently on Joanne's shoulder, making the seven-year-old feel

warm and happy inside, for reasons she couldn't name.

"You can stay here, and keep me company."

Joanne looked at Miss Stein and grinned, happy to be of service,

and from then on, each day at recess, Joanne and Miss Stein sat side-by-side,

sometimes making conversation, sometimes staying silent.

Either way, Joanne was always happy.

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	7. Favorite Thing

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Maureen's favorite thing about dating Joanne was not what one would expect.

It wasn't the sex, though that was..._beyond_ satisfactory, to say the least.

It wasn't the expensive dates Joanne took her out on every so often, as a surprise.

It wasn't even the deep conversations they'd have, the ones that lasted for hours and hours and left Joanne tired the next morning, though she didn't care much.

If asked publicly, Maureen would not reveal this favorite thing-- she wouldn't even dare mention it to her lover; it would completely ruin her image.

Late at night-- after a customary round of lovemaking-- Maureen would lie awake, basking in the lovely after-sex glow; her cheeks flushed, her heart still pounding.

Joanne would be fast asleep; she was always out cold after the fourth round or so.

Maureen, however, would watch her lover, softly (so not to wake her) stroking her arm in a loving manner. She loved to watch Joanne sleep-- it was fascinating.

It was almost like observing an animal in the wild. She loved how Joanne had no idea what Maureen was up to, it could be her own little secret.

The mocha beauty seemed to let down her walls when she slept. There was no fear, no insecurity written on her face.

Instead, Maureen saw a little girl.

This, alone, made everything-- the fights, the controlling, the annoying habits-- completely worth it.

Maureen felt privileged, at times, just thinking about it: Joanne Jefferson, high-powered attorney- practically a legend in the courtroom,

allowed Maureen a glimpse into her soul, a place she kept locked (with the key hidden far, far away)

from anyone else.

And when Maureen would finally fall asleep, her breathing coinciding with the steady heartbeat of her sleeping lover,

she always slept peacefully-- almost as if (even in her sleep) she knew she had Joanne, her fierce protector, who wrapped her arms around Maureen's waist and just held her all night long.

And in the morning, when Joanne was gone, Maureen would wake up (Jo's Harvard sweatshirt hanging off her lithe frame, and a pair of her lover's comfy boxer-shorts on),

her hair a tousled, curly mess; obvious pillow-imprints on her cheek, there would be a note in the kitchen,

or taped to the bathroom mirror-- from Joanne, of course. They would say things like:

"Have a great day, Honeybear. I love you,"

and

"Good morning, beautiful." (That one was Maureen's favorite.)

And though she was off being her no-nonsense Lawyer self for the day,

Maureen knew that soon enough, Joanne would be back in their bed,

sleeping peacefully beside her.

.x.

**Like it? Please review it tell me what you think, and thank you =) **

**Also, check out my other recently updated story, if you haven't already, "In Laughter, In Strife," and review that, too! (Gee, I'm demanding, huh?)**


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